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Sur Resurrection and Life (Jean 11 :25), ce n’est non pas Henry Grimes qui augmente le Yells at Eels de Dennis González, mais Alvin Fielder – contrebassiste entendu déjà dans quelques ensembles emmenés par le trompettiste (New Dallas Sextet et New Dallasangeles dans les années 1980 et Jnaana Septet plus récemment) et proie régulière de problèmes de santé capables de faire naître quelques inquiétudes.
C’est avec aplomb que Fielder prouve pourtant dès The Oracle que sous les peaux le cœur bat encore et même avec entrain. A tel point que González à la trompette et Gaika James au trombone y toruvent un supplément d'âme. L’air, que n’aurait pas renié Roswell Rudd, est d’une intense légèreté qui invite les intervenants au solo – Stefan González au vibraphone, premier de tous.
L’autre fils, Aaron, à la contrebasse, ouvrira à l’archet noir cet Humo en la Mañana aux airs d'Alabama. Plus loin, il signera Psynchronomenography, composition aux fondations répétitives sur lequel bugle et trombone claudiqueront le long d’une ligne mélodique qui rappelle, elle, quelque chanson de Steve Lacy. Ainsi le jazz de Yells at Eels est-il de références choisies et, lorsqu’il se fait plus singulier, soit revêt les atours de marches funèbres que se disputent rire et solennité (Resurrection and Life, Battalion of Saints), soit croule sous le poids des ornements (Everywhere to Go But Up, Nowhere to Go But Down). Mais l’écueil est plutôt l’exception, et ne doit en rien détourner le cortège des amateurs de González de la station Resurrection and Life.
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On Resurrection and Life (John 11:25), it’s not Henry Grimes guesting with Dennis Gonzalez Yells At Eels, but Alvin Fielder, the drummer who has already been heard in some of the ensembles led by the trumpeter (New Dallas Sextet and NewDallasAngeles in the 1980’s and more recently in his Jnaana Septet) and who had lately fallen prey to health issues which caused some concern.
On The Oracle, Fielder shows with great aplomb that his heart still beats under the skins, and with even more enthusiasm. So much so that trumpeter Gonzalez and trombonist Gaika James are able to come up with a bit more soul. The feel, reminiscent of Roswell Rudd is of an intense lightness that seduces players into soloing – most of all, Stefan Gonzalez on vibraphone.
His other son, Aaron, on bass, brings out his dark arco on Humo en la Mañana, which has a feeling of Coltrane’s Alabama. And later, he will write Psynchronomenography, with its repetitive vamp over which the cornet and trombone limp along on a melody that sounds like a Steve Lacy song. So, Yells At Eels’ jazz is quite selective in its references, and quite singular, even when it affects the trappings of funeral marches in which laughter and solemnity fight each other (Resurrection and Life, Battalion of Saints), or when it crumbles under the weight of its ornamentation (Everywhere to Go But Up, Nowhere to Go But Down). But the pitfalls are the exception, and should in no way divert the procession of those who love Dennis Gonzalez from arriving at the station called Resurrection and Life.
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